


About Time

by callmeonetrack



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, Quickies, Shower Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 12:39:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9385553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeonetrack/pseuds/callmeonetrack
Summary: 33 minutes is just enough time to drop your defenses.





	

They're on jump 200 and something. Kara lost track somewhere in the mid-hundreds. Her eyes are already half-closed as she shuffles into the head. She stopped by the mess right after shift, and now she has a blessed 15 minutes before she has to be on deck. Just enough time for a shower and maybe, if she's lucky, even a couple minutes of shuteye. 

She pulls off her clothes by rote, brain still reeling with gunfire and flying patterns and tactical moves, and steps into the shower block.

Kara freezes, eyes shooting wide open for the first time in two days.

Standing under the nearest faucet, hands on the wall, head bowed under the spray is Lee Adama. Water sluices down his back, between his shoulder blades, over pale skin and bulging muscles, every inch proving that life can indeed imitate art and the CAG's callsign was no joke. 

Naked bodies are generally about as interesting as the bulkheads on a battlestar. Kara never stares, didn't even when she was rook. 

But this is Lee. And she's wondered for far too long to stop staring now.

Her eyes track down, following water droplets sliding over sculpted ass and powerful thighs, and Kara sends a tiny silent prayer up to the Lords of Kobol that he will turn around.

The gods love her. 

He turns. 

His eyes are still shut, thank the Lords, head tipped back under the stream. Heat rises, curling up from his skin and Kara stares unabashedly, her gaze feasting on the broad chest, following the smattering of dark hair that winds down over taut abs, pointing like an arrow. Dimly some sort of lame joke about the Arrow of Apollo registers in her brain, but Kara's attention couldn't be diverted now if a raider flew directly into the head with them. 

She swallows, and her eyes slide lower. Kara takes a breath, nostrils flaring. He's big, bigger than she imagined, even now, soft, and a rush of desire sweeps through her. 

Luckily, there's no one else in the shower block to see the drool that literally slides out of the corner of her mouth. 

Kara swipes at her mouth and looks around to be sure. Yup, they're alone. She calculates quickly in her head. If they're quick about it...

She slips over to him, reaches out and lays her hand flat on his chest. Lee jumps, head rising and eyes going wide just as Kara pushes, shoving him back against the wall. 

"Kara, what the hell are you--" he's cut off, by her mouth closing over his and her hand encircling his cock. Lee is immobile for five seconds, ten at the most, before his hands are on her waist, his lips stretching under hers. Kara plunges in, tongue sliding and rubbing in time with her hand as she strokes him, her fist squeezing root to tip, as he stiffens and grows against her palm.

His hands slide down kneading her breasts, calloused fingers rolling her nipples, tugging just roughly enough to make her thighs clench. Kara can't wait anymore, she presses closer, her hips flush to his, hand fumbling to press him between her legs. 

Lee groans into her mouth, then pulls back, gasping, his hands squeezing her hips and holding her away from him. "Wait, Gods, Kara, we..." he's panting, eyes desperate, "we can't do this."

"Yes, we can," she hisses. "If we're quiet." And covers his mouth again with her own.

She kisses him as persuasively as she knows how, lips and tongue demanding his surrender, and after a moment, Lee's grip slackens, his hands sliding down to her hips and grabbing her, lifting her against him slightly, even as he bucks against her, demanding entrance. 

Victory and relief sweep through her, and she shifts, angling her body, one leg lifting to wrap around his thigh as he reaches down, hand closing over hers and together they fumble him into place. Lee pushes into her hard, hips already thrusting as his lips slide down to her neck. Kara wraps her arms around him, squeezes his ass with both hands, gasping as he sets a furious pace. 

It feels incredible. His body stretched against her, inside her, all hard planes fitting perfectly to her contours. He fills her on every stroke, the head of his cock bumping her g-spot, and Kara has to press her open mouth against his shoulder, teeth pressing his skin so she doesn't scream. In minutes, she's pulsing around him, already ready to come. 

She's never run this hot with anyone. It's been way too long, she thinks. It's displaced tension, that edge she's been walking for the past few days, she thinks. What she doesn't think, what she purposely refuses to consider, is that maybe it only feels like this because it's _Lee_. Lee, who's inside her, filling her, finally. Just like she's wanted ever since....

But then she's not thinking at all because he's turning them, flipping positions so her back is the one pressing the tile and he's lifting her higher, pressing into her deeper. Lee is shuddering under her hands already and his mouth is at her ear, a stream of harshly uttered commands drowning out the wet slap of their bodies. " _Gods Kara, yess, oh gods. Need you to come_ ," he hisses. " _Come for me_."

And for once, she follows his orders with no objection, as every muscle in her body convulses, contracting around him, pulling him deeper inside, before she explodes, bright bursts flashing behind her eyelids as currents of energy run through her body. Kara bites into his shoulder, sucks a hickey onto his skin as she shakes against him. Then Lee is pulsing out, sagging into her, his hands dropping from her thighs to press into the wall at her sides. 

Kara breathes, unwinds herself around him. The swift sure knowledge fills that she'll regret this (or at least the fact that she didn't drag him off to a rack), when she's back in the cockpit, alone with her guilt and grief again, fills her. But her body is still tingling with satisfaction, and Lee's face is buried in her neck, his lips fluttering against her skin, and she reminds herself that this is wartime now. They've already escaped death a dozen times in the past few days alone. The cylons keep coming, unstopping, unbeatable. So who knows how much longer they'll be able to evade it.

They have to get what they can, right now, she thinks, and reaches for Lee's face, tilting it up and kissing his mouth, soft and slow this time. 

They still have seven minutes.


End file.
